Off Again
by Jack Rafferty
Summary: AU after season 10. When Rachel doesn't get off the plane, will it mean the end of her and Ross's on and off relationship? Read and review. PG13 now mostly for language, possible R in later chapters. Completed.
1. One

**Disclaimer:** The characters and the lyrics aren't mine. They belong to Bright, Kauffman & Crane, and Matchbook Romance, respectively.

**Author's Note:** This is my first piece of fiction... ever (or the first time since high school). Yes, I do realize that Rachel's not featured as much in this chapter – I've done this intentionally, but she'll definitely be included in future chapters... that is, if you cool people review. Anyways, on with the story...

**Off Again?**

And just like that, she was gone. Even after the ups and downs, on and offs, close calls that was their relationship, she boarded her flight heading for Paris anyways even after his poignant declaration of love, telling her not to go and how much he loved her. Rachel Green. The woman Ross Geller had fallen in love almost twenty years ago in ninth grade typing. If it weren't for his son Ben, Ross would've followed Rachel to Paris. Hell, he would've followed her to the ends of the earth... as hackneyed as that sounds. Just this morning, he was in reverie of the fact they had slept together the night before, thinking it would've been enough to keep her from leaving and bring them back to being "Ross and Rachel" again just like the magical year when they were going out. Now, he felt as though he were in a sick twisted nightmare where he would wake up any minute, lying next to the love of his life: Rachel. However, this was a cold, harsh reality slapping him in the face, laughing at and mocking him. As the gate attendant closed the door, Ross stood there, clinging on to Phoebe – one of his closest friends and confidant when it dealt with Rachel – as if his life were depending on it.

_My eyes burn from these tears   
__You think I'd learn over these years   
__Good things won't last forever_

On the cab ride home, Phoebe drove much more cautiously as opposed to her reckless driving earlier in the evening, simply trying to catch up to Rachel before she left, even stalling the flight with one of the most idiotic excuses: something being wrong with the left phalange. Understanding of his current situation, Phoebe left Ross alone with his thoughts, knowing something was wrong with his aura. After all, she had witness the event firsthand – not that he would've had anything to say to her at the moment anyways. Ironically, it was Phoebe who once referred to Ross and Rachel as lobsters, going as far as to make up a ridiculous theory of lobsters falling in love and mating for life. Yet, it just wasn't meant to be. Well, Ross and Rachel definitely fell in love, whether they had fallen out of love was debatable – he was still in love with her, but she hadn't said anything. They also had mated, producing their beautiful two-year old daughter: Emma, which made things that much worse and difficult for Ross. He'd already lost his first child, Ben, to another ex-wife; now, he was about to lose another child to yet another ex-wife, granted they were temporarily.

_So what the hell am I supposed to do?   
__You only wanted the things I couldn't give to you   
__And you had it all anyway_

Ross was completely engrossed with his thoughts – his mind racing a thousand miles a second, daunted by the "what ifs" and all the "could, would, and should haves" that Ross could have done... anything to prevent this scenario he was faced with now. His mind was playing tricks and games on him. While Ross was glad that he told Rachel and assured himself it was that better she knew he loved her, it still hurt so much, even more than his divorces from Emily and Carol combined. _It should've been one of those lame, cheesy and cliché-ridden romantic comedy endings where the guy gets the girl_, Ross thought. He had always hoped their continuously dramatic "will they" or "won't they" saga would've had a better, happier ending than this. He had imagined that he would've been married to his high school crush and ex-girlfriend, living in Scarsdale or somewhere in the suburbs, having and raising their children, and basically, growing old together. While Ross had had many different girlfriends after Rachel, they all had one very common characteristic bonding them. They weren't Rachel, nor would they ever live up to those high expectations.

Ross pondered where they went wrong after their now infamous break. Every time they thought they had gotten their acts straight, there had been something there to prevent their reunion, whether it was an 18-page front-and-back letter, a drunken Vegas wedding, the conception of their daughter, an accidental proposal by a friend on the birth of Emma, her moving in so he could help her with the baby, a random bar schmuck's phone number he had hidden, bringing a ditzy woman back to their apartment, the same friend falling in love and eventually going out with her for a millisecond. It was as though fate had been playing a cruel trick on them all along. Suddenly, he was interrupted from these thoughts when Phoebe told them they had finally arrived in the Village.

"Ross, do you want to head over to Monica and Chandler's?" Phoebe asked with such sincerity in her voice. Ross shook his head and almost inaudibly stated, "It's alright, Phoebe. I'm just going to head back to my place and get some rest, but I'll head over there when I'm ready. Thanks for everything though." Ross had questions of his left unanswered. He wasn't prepared for another batch from his friends quite yet, especially his sister.

Ah, Monica – his sister and Rachel's best friend since they were young girls growing up in the same Long Island neighborhood, even when Monica was a tad bit overweight.

"I am truly sorry though, Ross. I thought she was going to stay," Phoebe mentioned as Ross slightly cringed, not even having to mention her name. She then jokingly added to lighten the mood, "Just don't go sticking your head into any ovens. I mean, you're one of my best and closest friends," drawing a brief chuckle from Ross.

So, Phoebe and Ross walked their separate ways. As Ross headed up the stairs to his apartment, his heart remained heavy, like it had been carrying the weight of the world after just being rejected. It wasn't as if it were the first he'd been rejected by Rachel, but why did this one sting the most? He had been the shy nerd in high school; she was the head cheerleader, prom and homecoming queen who wouldn't give him the time of day. Being Monica's older brother was the only reason she would've acknowledged his existence. As he reached his apartment door, Ross opened the door, tossing his keys onto his apothecary table from Pottery Barn. _Pottery Barn, one of the many stores she loves_, Ross said to himself. Instinctively, he went over to his answering machine, plopping himself down onto his coach, yet there weren't any messages... not from Joey, Monica, Chandler, or Rachel. _Hmm, maybe Phoebe told them not to call me_, Ross concluded.

Just then, his phone rang, but Ross didn't have the strength or motivation to pick up the phone, letting the answering machine pick it up.

"Hey, Ross, it's me." _Ah, not the voice I had hoped for or calling me right now._ "Whenever you're ready, just head over, we can talk and I could bake you some cookies or a cake." Monica's way of dealing with stress – by this, usually meaning her mother's harsh, biting, and often undeserved criticism – had been either cooking or cleaning. As Monica continued, Ross heard a familiar voice in the background, "Ooh, Monica, can you bake those cookies anyways... you know, as a going away gift? I mean, I'm not going to able to mooch off you guys anymore." _Ah, Joey. He wasn't the brightest, but a great friend nonetheless. After all, he came to me first before going after Rachel, not wanting to ruin our friendship... well, except for that one time after we'd arrived from Barbados._ Ross winced at the thought of finding out about his best friend and ex the way he did and the time he told them that he was "fine" at dinner the next night when he was anything but. Despite his attempts to block her out, every single thought went back to Rachel...

_Sometimes I feel I could drop off the face of the earth   
__It seems I do more harm than good   
__I don't know if it's worth me losing sleep over this_

"Guys, I've been thinking about surprising Rachel by visiting her in Paris," Ross proclaimed to the group – minus Joey and obviously Rachel – as they occupied the couches of Central Perk for the first time since Monica and Chandler had moved to their beautiful Westchester home. "She told me where she would be staying once she arrived in Paris. I'm not quite sure how she's going to react. Besides, it's been weeks since the whole airport incident. The semester's almost over and I'm pretty much done with the teaching portion. There are just the final exams to grade, but I'm almost done with those, too. Not to mention, I can't get fired due to this tenure. I'll only be gone a week or two, so it's not like Ben's going to miss me that much. Plus, it'd be great to see my little princess."

"That'd be great, Ross. I'm sure Rachel would definitely be glad to see you," the others chimed in supportively.

At almost the precise moment, Joey came bursting into Central Perk, apparently with some sort of news, exclaiming, "I'm going to California! My sister, Gina, got me this great place out in Los Angeles."

Always one to make the sarcastic joke at an inopportune moment, Chandler quipped, "Which would that one be, Joe? Aside from being loud, your sisters aren't the most distinguishable people in New York, let alone the entire universe."

"Yeah, not the one you had sex with," Joey coldly retorted, causing Chandler to turn a light shade of red. "She's this hairdresser to the stars or something. It'd be great, plus I'm so excited about furthering my career... you know, since I've done everything there is to do in New York."

"What? Joey, you can't leave! Didn't you make this huge fuss about Rachel leaving? Wasn't it you that made a scene about Chandler and I moving to Westchester?" Monica said, practically screaming and waking up the twins. "Oops, and now you're going too?" speaking in a much calmer and softer tone while Chandler went to pick up Erica and Monica picked up Jack, and started rocking their children back to sleep. "It's just that Ross..." Monica hesitated, looking at Ross and changing her sentence, "...everything's changing so fast."

Although it really shouldn't have, that last statement struck a chord with Ross; he, being the intuitive 'doctor' with a Ph.D., figured with Joey gone now that he would be the only single person in the group still living in New York. With Monica and Chandler now located in Westchester, they would be busy with their own brand new lives with the twins. They wouldn't want him intruding in, bothering them with his problems while they would have their own. Also, Phoebe and Mike had been planning on having children soon, too. Ross assumed he didn't want them barging in on their lives either. There was pretty much nothing left in New York – other than his son, of course. _I'm being phased out... again_, Ross reasoned, _except my friends are doing it this time and there isn't some scornful British woman forcing me to_.

With that in mind, Ross had decided to leave for Paris sooner. Despite being rejected, he still wanted to see her, hoping she'd be excited to see him... being optimistic, of course. He brought the leftover final exams that needed grading; hopefully, he would have left before Joey. He felt guilty about leaving hastily without saying goodbye, but he knew this had to be done – he wanted to hopefully salvage things and start a relationship with Rachel, again optimistically-speaking... realistically, he wanted to at least end on better terms with her. No one asked him why, but merely assumed he wanted to see and missed Rachel, which they weren't entirely wrong about. Regardless, he was ecstatic.

Ross had his flight several times, taking this as a sign that he wasn't supposed to be there. During the delay, he relived, in his mind, the last time been at Newark airport. How could he forget?

"RACHEL!!" Phoebe yelled, not caring about making a scene, which caused Rachel to head back towards the terminal's door. "Oh my God... what... what are you guys doing here?" was all Rachel could come up with. "Okay, you're on," Phoebe mentioned to Ross. "What? What? Ross, you're scaring me. What's going on?" Rachel wondered, speculating something had happened to Emma, the twins, or one of her friends.

"Okay, the thing is..." Ross noted, still trying to find the perfect words to say. Everything always had to be perfect when it came to Rachel, deserving only the best. _Fuck it_, Ross thought to himself. "Yeah?" she asked, breaking his concentration. "Don't go," he said. "What?" she asked, staring into his brown eyes, and confused now more than ever. "Please, please stay with me. I am so in love with you. Please, don't go," he replied. "Oh my God," was again all she could muster, the complete opposite of what she was expecting. Ross continued, "I know, I know. I shouldn't have waited 'till now to say it, but I'm... that was stupid, okay? I'm sorry, but I'm telling you now. I love you. Do not get on this plane."

They were curtly interrupted by a gate attendant, yet he was only doing his job. "Miss, are you getting on the plane?" the man uttered. "Hey – hey, I know you love me. I know you do," Ross proclaimed, hoping she would reciprocate. "Miss?" again the nameless man questioned. "I – I have to get on the plane," Rachel stated, not sure to handle the situation. "No, you don't," "Yes, I do," "No, you don't" Ross and Rachel exchanged. Until she responded, "they're waiting for me, Ross. I can't do this right now, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," gradually becoming sure of the decision she had just made. "Rachel?" Ross said, at a loss for words. Rachel apologized, "I'm sorry," showing the gate attendant her ticket and walking towards the plane.

Ross snapped out of his flashback, as the flight attendant over the speaker declared that the flight was now boarding for Paris. After a long flight, Ross finally arrived in Paris – the fashion capital of the world. He asked for either directions to the nearest hotel or where the apartment Rachel had been staying, but was easily lost in the French language being spoken to him. _Damn, I knew I should've taken some French lessons from Phoebe before I left_, Ross joked. After a couple hours of searching, he luckily found someone who spoke enough English and fluently to tell him where to go, even tipping him a generous amount. Ross was incredibly grateful towards the man. He couldn't wait not only to see the look on her face, but to have her show him around the city – the same way he had helped her almost ten years ago, when she came rushing back in a wet wedding dress into his life.

There was no turning back now. Here he was, outside Rachel's apartment complex. Opening the door, Ross mused, _that's weird. The door's unlocked. I guess Paris is a lot safer than New York... either that or some habits just don't change._ Walking into what was presumably her bedroom, "Rachel?" he called out. "Joey? What the hell?"

_So take, take everything and leave me scrambling   
__Reaching for something that wasn't there in the first place_


	2. Two

**Disclaimer:** I know it's annoying. However, characters still aren't mine… but I am thinking about negotiating for Jennifer Aniston though she may be out of my price range.

**Other stuff:** I'm having a hard time incorporating the other four in this story seeing as how Ross and Rachel are the core of this story, but I'm trying. As for the "shocker," don't worry about it… it will clear itself up. Read and review, pretty please? Wow, don't make me use that phrase, ever again. Anyways, on with the story…

**Two**

The words "I love you" reverberated constantly in her mind, pounding her head as if she were recovering from a hangover… only without the alcohol. It seemed ridiculous that those three simple words would still have a huge impact on her possibly because they were coming from _him_ – the man she hadn't dated in over six years, the father of their daughter, and possibly the only man she had ever truly loved. Ross. Getting the best of her, Rachel's emotions tumbled down, which left her feeling like her world had just imploded. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, still dealing with the fall-out of Ross's revelation – something she had known this whole time, yet she still needing his verbal affirmation. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but didn't. After all the last time Rachel told him that she was still in love with him, it ended up in rejection because he was married to Emily. "That bitch," Rachel mumbled at the mere thought of Emily. Before the flight had taken off, Rachel figured she should call Ross, but she didn't think he'd want to talk to her right now. She hated seeing the hurt look in his eyes, but most of all, she loathed the fact that she was the one inflicting that pain. She also thought about calling Phoebe, but odds were that she was still with Ross or that Phoebe wouldn't have wanted to talk to her either after shattering Ross's heart. Rachel had known that the gang had always wanted them together, especially Phoebe. So, she just sat there, thinking. Rachel tried thinking positively that Emma would be with her in a couple days but couldn't, knowing that she was also Ross's daughter and that in a sense she was taking Emma away like Carol had done with Ben.

It wasn't as though Rachel hadn't been with several 'boys' before or after Ross, some of which weren't worth another mention. Ross had been different, yet at the same time he wasn't. She thought she had loved Chip Matthews, the star football player and the prom date that stood her up until the last possible moment. Back then, she was too naïve to notice and too popular to care that she meant absolutely nothing to Chip. To him, Rachel had been nothing more than the girl he was fucking at the moment. The fact that she was Lincoln High's head cheerleader and homecoming queen gave him something to brag about to and made her locker room fodder for his jock friends. At the slightest possibility that Rachel would lose prom queen, he ran off to have sex with the other nominee, Amy Welsh. With Barry, she didn't love him and never did. She was fascinated by and attracted to being married to a doctor and filthy rich without doing a thing. Although she loved them, she would've been just like her mother and father – trapped in a loveless marriage. Rachel had eventually found out that the same Barry had been with her then-best friend and maid of honor, Mindy, while they were still engaged. There was Paolo, which should've been nothing more than a fling, yet somehow she became emotionally attached to him. Finding out he had hit on Phoebe left her distraught, even cursing off men for awhile. In all the wrong places, she had been looking and trying too hard to find love. Rachel had been putting herself out there, only to be disappointed.

"Ross," she mentioned, thinking of her next serious boyfriend after Paolo. He was the first guy she had truly loved, but more importantly, the first guy to love her back unconditionally. She poured everything into her relationship with Ross, finally thinking this would be the relationship that stuck, the one that would've ended with a happy marriage and a beautiful wedding. However, their relationship ended no differently than the rest. Just then, it hit Rachel. Here it was, the "Ross moment" she had told Phoebe about on her first night away from Emma, which was the same night she had impulsively given her phone number to "Bill from the bar" because she had connected with him and was tired of waiting for Ross – the ensuing fight that came along with this, leading her back to Apartment 19 and her brief "romance" with Joey. Tonight was the moment she had been waiting an entire year for, but still balked at the opportunity of a possible reunion even after he confessed his love for her. She was still on the plane to Paris, and now, it was too late to get off the plane. Rachel had thought she had been too cynical for her own good, thinking that it was better not to have gone "down that road" than to have herself get hurt again. Stopping herself, she questioned, "But why did last night feel so right?"

Finally getting settled comfortably in her seat and tears flowing freely down her face, she continued to reflect on the other guys she had dated after Ross: Mark – the guy that insanely and so effortlessly made Ross jealous; Joshua – the poor sap helped her temporarily move on from Ross but scared him off after Ross proposed to Emily; Danny – the weird incestuous guy that she had been with after Ross's divorce from Emily; Paul – Ross's ex-girlfriend's father, the guy she'd dated to help Ross so that Ross would have the approval to date Elizabeth and who had been too emotional after opening him up; Tag – the assistant that she almost lost her job for and was "too old" for; and Joey – which in hindsight, was only because of her sense of desperation to find someone, feeling left out after her other friends were paired off. She wasn't going anywhere with Ross since he was pining after Charlie. Before drifting off, she declared, "They're not Ross."

**XXX**

The alarms blared from inside Ross's bedroom, scaring the hell out of Ross who had been passed out on his couch.

Almost screaming, "Rachel and Joey?" were the first words escaping from his dry mouth. It had all been a horrible, yet terrifyingly realistic nightmare. He hoped it wasn't one of those premonitions or visions that Phoebe often talked about. 5:30 AM, the alarm clock read. "Wow, did I just pass out on my couch?" Ross murmured to himself, flatly. Becoming more aware and awake, he felt alone… Monica had Chandler, Phoebe had Mike, and well, he couldn't turn to Joey in _that_ manner. "God, I miss her," Ross declared, not even 24 hours after she left and missed everything about her – her long beautiful golden-brown hair, her gorgeous bluish-green eyes, her luscious lips, her infectious smile and distinctive laugh, her care-free personality, and her good heart. Her well-proportioned body was a bonus, but it was the other things that mattered first and foremost. Then he began contemplating other stuff, _had I been too straightforward? Did I scare her off? Did I do anything wrong that made her leave?_ He thought he had caught her bluffing about actually going to Paris, but she was gone. Ross was again lost in thought until he saw checked the clock. _6:00 A.M._, Ross noted. "Do I have to work, today?"

He, looking like a wreck, opted for a shower and changed his clothes. To anyone who didn't know him, they never would've guessed anything was wrong with him. But to his friends and family, they would have noticed that it was killing him. He left his apartment, headed for Central Perk. "I hope they're not there yet," Ross whispered still not wanting to see his friends yet, again not yet ready for their questions. "Man, I'm in for a long day at NYU."

Ross loved his job. Who wouldn't? He was actually being paid to talk about stuff he loved: science, particularly paleontology, prehistoric creatures, and dinosaurs. However, without Rachel here, he just didn't have the motivation or strength to put up with his somewhat monotonously daily schedule, nor did he have anything to look forward to after work… not that there was anything wrong with his other four friends. He peered in Central Perk's doors before entering, checking to see if his friends were there. "Score," he quipped as he entered. "Hey Gunther, can I get a cup of coffee?" The platinum blond-haired man blushed, recollecting of his own confession to Rachel last night and hoping Ross wouldn't remember. Unfortunately, Ross did but wasn't feeling up to reliving last night. He almost felt guilty for thinking that _if_ Gunther hadn't gone up to Rachel first, maybe he would've told her right then and there – the same place they had their first kiss almost eight and a half years ago. Ross spoke softly, _has it been that long?_ After being handed his coffee, he headed out the door and for NYU. "Thanks Gunther," he mentioned, signaling to him there were no hard feelings between them.

**XXX**

"How you do think he's holding up right now, Mon?" Joey asked curiously. "Don't know, Joe," Monica replied while holding her newborn daughter, "I called him last night after Phoebe left, but all I got was his answering machine. I know he's working today though, maybe we'll see him after." Instantaneously, Chandler came walking in with Jack in the stroller, "Here, Mon. He needs a diaper change, but I'll be off to do pretty much nothing with Joey." "Chandler!" Monica scolded. "Hey, I'm still a rookie in the zone defense, remember?" Chandler defensively stated, reminding her of the time they baby-sat for Frank and Alice's triplets. "Besides, we wouldn't want them finding out any secrets, do we?" Again, he, more than anything, seemed to be reminding Monica of the time he told Owen that there was no Santa Claus or that he had been adopted. "It's not like they'd understand anything right now anyways," Monica scoffed.

"So, have you guys seen Ross?" Chandler asked.

"No," Monica and Joey both answered simultaneously.

"Anyways, do you think can you help us finish packing, Joe?" Monica requested genuinely, trying to change the somber and almost melancholy mood.

"Yeah, I will, but only if you bake those cookies, ooh, a cake. No wait, how about a couple of lasagnas?" Joey giddily replied, barely containing his excitement. "Fine," Monica conveyed drearily, almost reluctant of his response.

As if on cue, Phoebe walked into Central Perk's doors, hearing Monica say, "Pheebs, we need your help packing." Before Monica could even finish, she found herself responding, "Oh, no. Um, Mike and I…" _hurry up and find something, _Phoebe thought, "Eh, forget it. What time do you need me?" she finished.

**XXX**

Rachel woke up groggily as the plane touched down onto concrete. Still, thoughts of Ross plagued her mind, particularly in his plea for her to stay. The sincere tone and the sense of finality in his voice and the simplicity of his words reminded her of one night many years ago. It was the night both would never forget where he had barged in at her office bringing couscous, the night before where they'd fought and he'd mentioned she had impulsively called the "break," the night that would send her relationship with Ross spiraling after she'd found out that he'd slept with the stupid Xerox slut, the night she thought would never come – the night they broke up.

That night flashed and the words continually "do you want to fight for us or do you want to bail" echoed in her head. She'd bailed _twice_.

Fighting back tears, Ross pleaded, "Look, look. There's got to be a way where we could work past this. Okay," clasping onto her left arm and continued "I can't imagine, I can't imagine my life without you," as tears now both started to trickle down their cheeks and splashing onto the ground, "Without, without these arms, and your face, and this heart. Your good heart, Rach," as Ross got down on his knees and clinging onto her as if there were no tomorrow, "and, and…"

"No," she replied. "You're a completely different person to me now. I used to think of you as someone who would never, ever hurt me, ever. God, and now I just can't stop picturing with her; I can't," as Ross got up from his knees, she finished and emphasizing the last word, "it doesn't matter what you say, or what you do, Ross. It's just changed everything. Forever."

Ross was speechless, as he stood there crying and grasping for breath. The only words he managed to utter, "Yeah, but this can't be it, I mean." There was a thick air of tension and sadness that you could cut with a dull kitchen knife. Gathering her thoughts and becoming more resolved with her decision, she ended things _her_ way, "Then how come it is?" Time stood still as each word passed through her lips.

She had been snapped out of her trance by the flight attendant, "Miss? We're here. Are you okay?" noticing that Rachel had been crying, but not wanting to pry on her personally. "Yeah, I'm fine," Rachel lied as she muttered under her breath "Damn, Ross. Why did things become so complicated?"

As soon as Rachel got off the plane, she headed straight for the restroom with tears escaping her eyes. Dabbing her eyes, she thought of ways to take her mind off him. Shopping was the first thing she thought of. As she walked to baggage claim and carrying the Louis Vuitton luggage they'd provided for her after taking the job, she then thought of her daughter, but still it pained her to know that Emma not being with her father daily. Ross adored Emma, just as much as he loved her.

The whole airport gave Rachel a cold and empty vibe as if it were telling her, "You don't belong here." Nonetheless, she was looking forward to exploring her new home. It still didn't sit right that she'd be calling Paris "home," but that's what living with Monica had been like at first. _I'm going to get used to it_, she thought positively. Another reason she thought her move was a good one: Monica and Chandler were moving to Westchester, she wasn't going to see them everyday anyways. Phoebe would be "busy" with her marriage to Mike. Joey would still be doing the whole show business thing, hopefully cheering up Ross. Again, her thoughts went back to Ross – no matter how hard she fought it, but she did her best as she struggled to carry her other luggage off the carousel.

Independence. Paris would be the ultimate testament of just how "independent" she'd become over the past ten years. Sure, she was independent in that she didn't live off of and need her father's money anymore, but she still had help along the way from her closest friends.

She saw a chauffeur carrying a placard with her name plastered across it. She walked over to him, and they'd walk to the car. He'd placed her luggage in the trunk, taking her to her brand new fully-furnished apartment where they'd finally arrive. She tipped the driver and thanked him. She walked in. It was beautiful and had _almost_ everything: a gorgeous view of the city, soothing powder blue painted walls, two huge bedrooms for Emma and her – one of which had a balcony to the gorgeous view, furniture decked out with Pottery Barn furnishings which she had specifically requested, and a luxurious bathtub with a built-in Jacuzzi. She knew there was one thing missing, but she didn't want to admit it. When it came to Ross, one of the flaws describing Rachel Karen Green was stubborn, one of the traits she'd inherited from her parents and possibly even Ross. Change of plans to shop, she decided to just take a nap as the jet lag kicked in.

**XXX**

The longest day of Ross's life had just passed. He had felt guilty about not contacting his sister and friends, but hoped they would understand. "Was it worth getting tenure if it's just going to be like this?" he stressed and seriously contemplated quitting. It was somewhat of a catch-22: lose this great job and go after Rachel or lose the woman he'd loved forever and keep teaching. The latter seemed much more pleasing, but he wasn't even sure if she would want him back. She had turned him down yesterday. Also, he couldn't just leave his family and friends behind. Then, there's the sticky situation with Ben, not wanting to abandon him. Trying to change his mood, he decided to call Monica and ask for her help with all of this.

He dialed her phone number, which someone had picked up. "Hello," a male voice answered. "Chandler? Is Monica there?" he asked. "Yeah, hold on, I'll go get her," Chandler replied. His sister chimed in exhaustedly, "Hey bro, what's up?" "You're not busy, are you? I need someone to talk to and just you," Ross requested, forgetting that she and Chandler had been taking care of Jack and Erica. "Yeah, Chandler _finally_ put the twins down for a nap," Monica stated quite proud of her husband's feat, but added to ask, "Why?" Ross chuckled at the thought and sight of Chandler giving his kids a nap, "Just meet me at Central Perk in about twenty minutes." With that, he hung up the phone.

Ross joked about his brother-in-law, "Man, Chandler has grown up over the last 10 years." He headed out his apartment door for Central Perk. As he walked into the street, he ran into the one woman that had changed and ruined his life in one night, the same woman that _if_ she were a man – Ross would've had already broken the bastard's jaw, the woman he never thought he would have to see again. Of the millions living in New York, he had to run into her. Again, fate was again playing a sick joke on him, like taking Rachel away from him and relocating her in Paris. He pinched himself just to make sure he wasn't dreaming again. He wasn't. The woman may have had a different hair color, but she was still the one woman that he seethed most... well, maybe except for Emily.

The woman announced energetically, "Hey, Ross!"


	3. Three

**Author's Note: **I was supposed to have this chapter up before Thanksgiving, but it was weaker (but I've tweaked it somewhat). Plus, I've been busy with school-related stuff. As a Ross and Rachel fan, this chapter was somewhat harder to write. Anyways, thanks for the reviews. On with the next chapter…

**Three**

"So, what do you think Ross wanted to talk to Monica about?" Phoebe asked, trying to break the silence yet already knowing the answer to her own question.

"I bet it has something to do about Rachel," Joey mentioned, "I mean, who better to talk to about Rachel with than her childhood friend, right?"

"Joe, you're _still_ a mystery to me, but I'm going to miss you," Chandler joked, lucky the twins had been napping before Monica left.

"Oh, for the love of God, get a room," Phoebe yelled as she continued putting stuff into boxes. "Yeah, I'd assume it has something to do with Rachel, too. I love Rachel," Phoebe paused as she saw Joey getting giddy as he took what she had just mentioned way out of context then finished, "…as a _friend_, Joey. Sometimes, she can be a pain in the ass. Besides, with her in Paris, she's totally disproving my entire lobster theory. Phoebe Buffay-Hannigan hates it when she's wrong... that and having to refer to myself in third-person."

"Oh, guys. Before I forget, my sister, Gina, got me an apartment somewhere in Los Angeles. She's also got a son, but I haven't heard much about him since she moved out there. You know, on the other side of the world," Joey disclosed. "I'm itching to further my whole acting career, plus I've got one hell of an agent. She's a shark, but that's not a bad thing."

"What??" Phoebe and Chandler exclaimed, simultaneously.

He announced, "Yeah, I figured with everyone doing their own thing: Rachel's in Paris, you and Monica moving to Westchester, and Phoebe and Mike doing the whole married thing. I felt I should, too."

"What about Ross?" Chandler inquired.

Joey answered, "Well, I think Ross can take care of himself. He's still got Ben, Carol, Susan, and you guys to hang out with."

After Joey's announcement, the room went back tothe eerie silence that had coated it before Phoebe spoke.

**XXX**

As he was approaching Central Perk, Ross couldn't believe what he was seeing. He hated referring to her by name – the copy place girl. The woman that ruined his relationship to the only woman he'd truly loved… outside of Carol, of course.

"Hey, dinosaur guy, do you remember me?" Chloe questioned.

"How could I forget?"Ross replied bitingly, hoping she'd sense his tone and leave, but to no avail. "Oh yeah, the copy place girl." He still didn't want to refer to her by name. In fact, he hated the name ever since the night of the incident. The thought of that night and hurting Rachel made his blood boil. That night, he was no better than the scum that Rachel had previously been with – Chip, Barry, and Paolo.

"Chloe," she corrected, then asking while trying to sound innocent, "Is there something wrong?"

"You," Ross mumbled under his breath, "Oh, no. I'm supposed to meet up with my sister, but she's running a little late." Just then, Chloe brought up the one thing he didn't want to talk about… at least, not to her. "So, how's your girlfriend? That Rachel girl you keep talking about? I mean, I've seen her around and she's really nothing special," she asked obliviously.

"Um, we're not together anymore," Ross replied casually although the anger in his voice was building up, especially at Chloe's disparaging remark towards Rachel. Even when they weren't together, he still felt protective of Rachel. Sure, he could speak negatively about Rachel _if_ he wanted to. It was one of the "rights" as the ex-boyfriend, but he just couldn't work himself to badmouth Rachel. Plus, she was still one of his best friends, but he wouldn't let someone who hardly knew Rachel say these things about her.

"Ah, I'm so sorry. What happened?" she wondered.

"Yeah, it's complicated. I kind of don't want to talk about it though," lying about the last part. He did want to talk about it, just not to her. S_he won't just leave me alone_, he reasoned, recalling to that night where again she just kept pestering him.

"Again, I'm sorry, but when you do want to talk about it, call me okay," she spoke as she scribbled down her number on a piece of paper and handed it to Ross. As the words came out of her mouth, they quickly turned to gibberish and wondered what he saw in Chloe that made him even think about sleeping with her. He'd only found her remotely attractive because Joey and Chandler kept boasting about gawking at "the 'hot' girl from the Xerox place." Chloe, in retrospect, was less than average in looks and the only redeeming factor about her was that stupid belly button ring. Hands down, Chloe wasn't worth jeopardizing what he had with Rachel. This time, he was a lot more mature, or so he thought, but he definitely wasn't falling into Chloe's little "trap" again.

Just as Chloe left, he'd spotted Monica in the corner of his eye, crumpling the piece of paper he'd just been handed and tossed it into the street. "Not even a whole day and you're already hitting on other women, Ross?" Monica quipped. "Ha-ha, Mon. You know, you're becoming a lot like Chandler." As they walked towards Central Perk, he teased his sister, "You'll never guess who that was." "Who," Monica asked, almost indifferently. "Chloe, the copy place girl," Ross stated emphatically. In an almost Rachel-like manner, Monica replied, "No!" With just the slightest mention of her name, Monica reminisced all the nights and weeks after their break-up she spent consoling both Rachel and Ross, trying her hardest not to choose between the two. She never could: Rachel was her best friend, but Ross was her brother. "You were hitting on Chloe!" she yelled, punching her brother in the arm. "Ouch! No! I ran into her on my way to meeting you," Ross explained defensively, "I wanted absolutely nothing to do with her, but she just wouldn't leave me alone. She gave me her number, but I tossed it into the street." Monica answered, "Good, you'd better… or I just might have to hit you, again."

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Monica pondered as they reached their hangout for the past 10 years.

"Well, you know how I have tenure, right?" Monica nodded. Ross continued, "Well, I'm torn between quitting my job, going after her, and moving to Paris," he paused as Monica hung onto his every word, "or keep the job I love and finally let the woman I've loved the past 20 years go. I mean, what good is tenure if I don't have her or Emma around? If I go with the former – which right now sounds much more appealing – I'd have her and Emma, but I'd be leaving you guys and Ben."

Monica understood and reasoned, "Well, summer vacation's coming up. Why don't you pay her a surprise visit? You wouldn't have to quit your job, plus you'd get to still get to see her and Emma." Almost instantaneously like Ross had already prepared this, "Yeah, I've thought of that, Mon, but it's just not the same, you know? But I'd hate knowing that I'd have to leave her, again… even if it is temporarily."

Again, Monica provided, "How about you ask Sandra if you could be the one to take Emma to Paris? However, I can't make that decision for you. You're going to have to decide what's best for you and what _you_ want. I'll understand if you choose to leave, but I don't know if it'll be the same for the others, especially Ben. By the way, Ross, Rachel's a great friend, my best friend and all, but what is it that you see in her that you didn't see in all the others you've dated?"

**XXX**

Rachel woke up from her nap, still in disbelief that she was actually in Paris now. The boxes wouldn't arrive until tomorrow or the day after and her job didn't start for another week. She'd decided to do what she'd planned on doing before her nap: shop, tour Paris, and hopefully, find a baby-sitter or daycare for Emma. First, she needed to rid herself of the clothes that reminded her of Newark… and Ross. "I'd hate to throw out such a great outfit," Rachel joked with a towel caressing her body. Once the water splashed onto her face and trickled down her chest and body, reality set in: she could spend the rest of her life without seeing Ross or not getting the proper closure that their history merited; worse, she could find and marry another man. God, she'd hate to see the look on his face if and when she'd tell him she was engaged and getting married… to someone else. It pained her when she had found out about him and Emily, namely at how quickly he'd proposed to her after six weeks. While she and Ross had been together for a year, there was no proposal or wedding. At that thought, she felt a slight resentment of how "lucky" Emily was – at least, she was engaged and briefly married, without the influence of alcohol, to Ross even if it turned into the wedding and marriage from Hell. Rachel dried herself off, hair still damp, and covered herself with the same towel. "Well, at least, there isn't anyone to peer in on me," Rachel said aloud, thinking back to the time where Ross had thought she'd wanted sex, which lead to their drunken marriage. She did want to marry Ross, but not that way.

Looking for clothes, she searched through her luggage, finding the last thing she'd packed – her Ross box. She thought it'd been lost in the fire at Phoebe's apartment a few years back; luckily, it remained intact. She opened it, seeing all the contents there, plus some of the stuff she'd added in over the years – a copy oftheprom video, the movie stub from the first date, the egg shell from the first time he had made her breakfast in bed, the bone that Ross had reluctantly let her keep from the first time they made love, the divorce papers from their drunken Vegas wedding, the napkin bearing his name on it from when her and Phoebe had planned their backups, the videotape from the night they'd conceived Emma, the first batch of photos that she'd taken from Ross held Emma at the hospital, various pictures and the video from their daughter's first birthday, photographs from the time they had gone to the park. Stroking her daughter's face on the photo, she weakly mumbled, "Sweetie, I'm so sorry I can't give you the family you deserve." Growing sick of the constant pessimism around her, she threw the Ross box onto the wall, yet regretted it once the box left her hand. "Enough, I've got to start thinking positively and enjoy Paris." Leaving the box there lying on the ground, she put on some make-up, got dressed, and was out ready to explore Paris.

Much like Ross, Rachel looked like nothing was wrong with her to those that didn't know her. To everyone who knew her, it was pretty obvious something was bothering her even though she would never admit it. In Paris, she stuck out like a sore thumb, feeling lost like a tourist in a foreign country. She hailed for a taxi, but wasn't having any success. She mocked, "Shoot, why did I sleep through high school French?" She shouted again, finally as the taxi approached. "Where is the nearest mall?" she questioned. Without further question, the driver – barely understanding her words – steered her in the direction of the mall.

**XXX**

Monica called and knowing her brother was lost in thought, "Ross?"

"Mon, it's just complicated," his sister nodded as if she were saying her customary 'I know' as he continued, "I mean, with her, it just isn't one specific thing about her. It's everything, actually. When she was here, she and Emma were the two things that made it worth getting up in the morning. They were what I had to look forward to after a long day at work, you know? The gang and Central Perk are great and all, plus you're the best sister anyone would be lucky to have," he paused, "but it's just not the same with Rachel. I don't know what the hell I was thinking with Charlie, but it seemed like we clicked – a little too well. She was too perfect, like there was no challenge or spark after awhile. With Mona, she was attractive and all, but she was a bit to sycophantic even when I disregarded her during Rachel's pregnancy."

He paused, "Hell, the _only_ reason I pursued Emily was because Rachel had done a great job convincing me when she said she was over me while moving on with Joshua, so I figured 'why not give Emily a shot?' I _did_ love Emily, even when she was a bit moody before I said Rachel's name. I'm pretty sure proposing to Emily only after six weeks of dating was the second biggest mistake of my life – even worse than the drunken marriage to Rachel and lying about the annulment. If I had known Rachel found out before heading to China, I never would've left and there would've been no Julie. I loved Carol, too; I truly thought she would've been the one that helped me get over Rachel in college. Of course, being the unlucky guy that I am, she turns out to be a lesbian. Then Rachel shows up in a wedding dress bursting into Central Perk and it brought back all those feelings that I'd buried deep down to the point where I didn't even care that Carol was a lesbian. You know, I just didn't want a divorce that young, but then again, who does? It's seems ironic that the only women I've had children with are the only ones I've truly loved. Imagine if Chandler had taken a job in another country with Jack or Erica, you told him you loved him, but decided to leave anyways. Honestly, it sucks…"

Monica witnessed her brother pouring everything that had been pent up, but could only say, "I'm so sorry, Ross. I mean, you're a great brother too. You don't deserve this."

I'm so sorry. The three words that had floated in Ross's head a lot the past day or so, particularly at the airport when she got back on the plane. Ross assured her, "It's not your fault, Monica. It never was. It's mine."

Suddenly, Monica had this urge, not a good one – although she really didn't want to feel this way. She had a growing disdain for her best friend from the same Long Island neighborhood, realizing that all – with the exception of Carol – of Ross's relationships had ended in part due to Rachel. After all these years of catering to both sides, she'd picked her brother. She griped, "No, it's not, Ross. Sure, you're partially to blame, but you shouldn't have to take all the blame. I mean, she's still my best friend and she's been a great one too, but you're my brother. But hasn't she fucked you over so many times?"

Ross was taken aback with his sister's curse, "What do you mean?"

She explained, "Don't you think she's still selfish? Still living in Rachel-Land, Queen Rachel gets whatever and everything she wants, not giving a shit about who she hurts. She can't forgive you for a stupid list, which was hardly your fault. You willingly accept all the blame for your relationship's downfall after Chloe then blames you for falling asleep while reading it. She sets you up with Emily, but goes jealous when she finds out you're in Vermont with Emily. She gets mad at you for not getting the annulment when the drunken wedding was her fault and only admitted it because of sympathy. She allows you to go out with Jill, but freaks out the second you shut your drapes and tells you to cancel your date with her sister because it made her uncomfortable."

She waited and hoped Ross would be listening to every word she was saying, which he was and continued, "She wanted to use you for sex on mine and Chandler's engagement night. When you do have sex, she tries to say you came onto her, but got caught in a lie she couldn't get out of. You helped her find an apartment, going as far as to kiss the dying woman willing to sublet the apartment to her, but she passed when you finally did get the apartment. She convinced you to stop dating because she'd gotten jealous of Katie. Not to mention, she kisses a co-worker she barely got along with. I know, she's not your property, but still it'd be nice if she could reciprocate on the no dating thing so you both could take care of Emma. She accepts Joey's proposal because Janice scares her about raising Emma alone. When you propose, you guys aren't 'in the same place' or some lame ass Rachel excuse, yet she wasn't in the same place that Joey was in when she accepted. It's hypocritical, Ross. Then you have to find out about her and Joey the way you do and while holding Emma, no less. She impulsively decides to take a job in Paris without at least consulting you first, taking Emma with her. Emma is your daughter too. You had to convince her for a goodbye. Ross, she doesn't deserve you, nor do you continually need to have your heartbroken by her. You'd be a great catch to any woman, Ross. Any woman would be lucky to have you, but Rachel waits until you screw up, so she can get the free pass to do what she wants."

A shocked and baffled Ross could only utter, "Wow, I didn't know you felt that way, Mon."

Monica responded, "Well, I mean, yeah. She's told me all these things, but I could only hold it in… out of gratitude for being a great friend. And I hated when you two broke-up, I hated how she felt and not knowing what to do or say to console her. I hated having to pick between you and her. I mean, I knew you had a thing for Rachel, but when I saw how deep it was, I've wanted you guys together, but I think that her leaving was quite possibly the best thing – for you. I don't want Mental Geller to reemerge again. Don't get me wrong, I'd still love it if you two would finally get your acts together, but it just seems all so masochistic. You know?"

"Mon, I know Rachel can be selfish, self-centered, and sometimes thinking about how the world revolves around her, but it makes me love her even more. If anything, I wish I could take back that night – the night that made things much more complicated than they should be. Hell, I wish things were a lot simpler than they are now. It does sound slightly crazy and masochistic. I mean, you put up with Chandler's constant jokes, his jealousy of Richard, and all his other quirks, right? I don't know about you, but it just seems worth it."

With that, Ross had made his decision. He was headed for Paris.


	4. Four

**Author's Note**: Wow, life's been a bit hectic the past month or so with finals, the holidays, and other stuff. I've actually had this chapter done since Thanksgiving, but wasn't happy with it. I've made some revisions, but still not that happy with it. The end should be coming up though, possibly two or three more chapters (excluding this one) with an epilogue… maybe. I do have an idea for another fiction, but I'll wait until I'm at least done with this one (BTW, I suck at multi-tasking). On with the story… (Oh, yeah… it's a given I don't own anything from the show and all that other standard stuff. They belong to Bright, Kaufman, and Crane.).

**Four**

"Wow, even Paris doesn't have enough stores," a frustrated Rachel complained with her shopping bags in tow, oblivious to her slight Freudian slip when she had done the same to take her mind off Ross and Emily's wedding. Rachel walked over to where she had thrown the Ross box; the contents remained scattered on the floor, but she decided to pick them up and place them inside the box. It wasn't a gesture of moving on. No, it was anything but that – it was more of her being tired of the constant "negativity" around her, tired of the thoughts about him, his words at the airport, and everything else about him. It hurt her _too_ much, more than every single one of her other relationships, if not more than all those relationships combined. Every instinct in her body was telling her to call Ross and talk to him. At least, assure him that it wasn't because she didn't love him. Because of course, she did – granted she wouldn't admit that unless someone brought it out of her. Say something, anything really. It just couldn't end the way it did.

Instead, she called her mother to check up on Emma. "Mom, how's Emma? Is my little angel being a good girl for her grandmother?"

Sandra replied, "Oh, hi, Rachel! Yeah, she hasn't been _that_ much of a fuss. In fact, Emma's been great, except she's been moving around a lot and it's hard for me to keep up with her."

For quite possibly the first time while in Paris, Rachel managed a smile, "Wow, she's going to be so much more independent than I was. I'm just hoping she doesn't end up being spoiled like me."

"Well, it's going to be tough, especially if your father and Ross keep buying her these toys," her mother informed.

Just then, Rachel felt a slight pang in her heart and her smile quickly faded, "Oh, did, um, Ross visit her?"

"Yeah, he stopped by after work, dropped off some toys to keep hopefully her preoccupied for the flight. He's told me about how much he's going to miss his little girl. And surprisingly, the toys aren't of the dinosaur variety," Sandra paused, sensing something was wrong by the silence on the other end. "Is something wrong, Rachel?"

"Oh. No, it's nothing," Rachel lied.

"I'm your mother, dear. I can sense when something is wrong and when you're lying to me – call it mother's intuition. You'll be doing the same for Emma sooner than you think," her mother told. Trying to lighten the mood, she jokingly added, "Is it Ross? Did he cheat on you again?"

"No, mom, it's not that. I'm still in love with him," Rachel revealed through stifled sobs, the joke about Ross cheating struck a chord with her. "What if" haunted her thoughts again. What if he hadn't slept with Chloe, would they still have been together? Would he still have continued to be so jealous of Mark? Would they have been married with more children? Would they have a home in Scarsdale?

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sandra interrupted.

"I mean, he came to Newark to tell me that he still loved me and that he didn't want me to go to Paris before my flight, but I left anyway. I didn't know how to deal with it at the time. It wasn't until the plane took off and thought about it that I realized that I love him too," Rachel confessed. "I actually had to think about whether he loved me. I've been in denial about it all along. And everything here in Paris feels wrong or constantly reminds me of Ross. However, it's still a great opportunity that I don't want to pass up that easily. He'd been supportive about the job, too. I thought he was over me when he let me go. The thing is if the situations were reversed, I don't think he would have given up a job for me… would he? I just don't know what to do, mom."

"Well, you should call him, tell him what you just told me, and at least, let him know that you love him too," her mother advised. "I'm sure, he'll be glad to hear that you love him too."

"Yeah, but I'm afraid of what he'll do, what he'll say or if he'll even want to talk to me," Rachel reasoned. "I hated seeing him ache like that, and knowing full well that I was the one causing it. I'm the one who can fix it or leave it as is. It just seems that whenever we do try to get things to work out and get so close, we manage to mess things up. Hell, I love Ross so much, but I'm afraid of hurting him or myself again. Honestly, he's the only guy I've truly loved – more than all the guys I've been with."

Rachel felt slightly better about letting all of this off her chest.

"Well, Rachel. You have to tell him this," Sandra advised. "That was always the problem between your father and I. We were both incredibly stubborn. Hell, we were _never_ able to fix our problems instead we would just blame the other and go on as nothing was wrong. He'd always focus his attention on his work and his damn boat… and you, sweetie – you were always his favorite. I think he cared more about you than me. However, you're situation with Ross; it's still fixable. He truly does love you even when he won't admit it to himself."

Suddenly, it clicked with Rachel. In terms of her relationship with Ross, she had been like her father, immensely focused on work. It was her escape of sorts from Ross when he had been jealous of Mark. Sure, it had been mostly Ross's fault for Chloe, but she hadn't realized that she had been, at least, part of the reason for their break-up – or maybe she had known, but didn't want to admit it because she _used_ to think nothing could ever be her fault. Her "best" example of handling a relationship was from her parents, running away and pin all the responsibility on the other person. That night they fought about Gavin and "Bill from the bar" – rather than working out their problems, she ran to the other person she could trust most, not to mention the closest and most available place: Joey's apartment. Worse, she had known exactly why Ross hid the message – he loved her or at least, had some feelings for her. It wasn't rocket science. At that moment, she felt that she couldn't trust him if he were going to be hiding her messages. Who knew what else he could've been keeping from her? _It's not too late, right_, Rachel thought, but snidely added, _well, maybe not after this..._ But she had to think positively.

"Rachel?" Her mom called, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, sorry… thanks, mom," Rachel said, feeling the need to call her ex, yet still not sure of what to say. Rachel's mom had to leave since Emma had awoken from her nap. She called Ross, wanting to hear his voice, but all she got was his answering machine. Eventually, she gave up and left him a message. After, she felt confident that this time things were going to work out between her and Ross. Her conversation made her more determined that things were going to end much better than they did at Newark. More importantly, things were going to end much better than they did over seven years ago. They were finally going to get the closure that they had deserved and earned. Hopefully, any and all obstacles they'd come across, they face _together_… no matter how unoriginal it sounded. After all, they'd been through a lot more than most married couples.

**XXX**

For the last time, Monica arrived at the place she called home over the past twelve or so years – Apartment 20. Tomorrow would be the day she and Chandler would be moving into their new home in Westchester. She also regretted that that best friend wouldn't be able to see her move into that new home. Yet, all she could think about was the stuff she had told her brother about Rachel. She felt like she had betrayed her best friend, but relieved that she stuck up for her brother. She had a feeling Ross would've gone after Rachel anyways. _Sometimes, the man can be too obsessed over Rachel_, she thought.

She opened the door, finding that Chandler was the only one left, and seeing him hold Erica and talking baby gibberish to her. "You've come a long way, Bing."

"So, how did it go?" her husband inquired.

"You know, I'm not sure if he wanted to talk about it yet, so I'm going to wait until he tells you guys," Monica replied firmly, wanting to respect her brother's privacy. "But he's torn."

"You want even better news?" Chandler noted sarcastically, obviously. "Joey says he's leaving for and moving out to California. He says his new agent got him a gig on some really violent cop show."

"JOEY!" Monica yelled, followed by her putting a hand over her mouth, hoping that she hadn't woken up Jack. A few seconds later, Joey came bursting into the room, somewhat out of breath.

"What?" he asked.

"Joey, weren't you the one complaining about Rachel leaving for Paris? Or didn't you make a scene about Chandler and me moving out to the suburbs? Now, you're moving too. And Ross, he'll be left all alone."

"Well, it's good for my career," he replied, sounding rehearsed. "I mean, it's going to be weird not seeing you guys everyday, but when you guys move out to Westchester, I won't be able to see you or Chandler everyday anyways, so why not do something good for my career? I mean, I can't play Dr. Drake Ramoray forever." With that, Joey left Monica and Chandler's apartment.

"Yeah," Monica stated, hoping she hadn't given away too much information and casually changing the topic. "So, did the twins create any problems while packing?"

"Nah, they were great. Jack has been out like a log for most of the night, but Erica wasn't able to sleep until you came in. You know what that means though, Jack's going to be all night tonight," Chandler informed.

"Where's Phoebe?" Monica asked.

"She had to get back to Mike. You know, they are trying to start their family," Chandler teased. "Besides, he was getting lonely… or something. But she did say she would be helping us tomorrow. Wow, can you believe it? We're actually moving."

Something bothered Monica about Chandler's last statement. "Yeah," she affirmed. _Family_, she deliberated. _Chandler and I are moving to Westchester. Phoebe and Mike are trying to start one. Joey would be in California with his sister. Ross won't have that if he doesn't go after Rachel._ Immediately, she felt even guiltier about thinking bad things about Rachel, much less articulating them out loud. _Maybe it would've justified if she had said she didn't feel the same way about Ross_, she stated, almost trying to justify her actions, _but I don't know how she feels about_.

**XXX**

He had no idea that it had been pretty late after his talk with Monica, but he walked around The Village anyways. He had nowhere to go in particular, just not home yet. _Monica can't be right, right?_ He pondered. One of the many things Ross hated: second-guessing himself and his decisions. He knew Monica meant well, but he wasn't quite sure what to make of their conversation – whether it had been a good or bad idea to talk to her. He felt that he should do what was in his heart, but he still needed some sort of confirmation from another friend namely about his dream that he had a couple nights ago. More likely, he needed to talk to someone about his impending decision. He walked up to one of her ex-boyfriend's – no matter how long they went out – apartment.

Apartment 19.

Looking at his watch, Ross felt it was more appropriate to knock, hoping Joey would still be awake. He felt ridiculous about knocking seeing as how he'd barged into both apartments on several occasions without second thought.

"Hey, Joe," he mentioned.

"Dude, you're the second Geller to wake me up tonight," causing Ross to shoot him a glare. "Wow, you and Monica do have that same 'I'm going to kill you' look. Oh, I mean. It's really late. So, how'd your chat with Monica go?"

"I don't know," Ross answered truthfully. "I mean, I thought about going to Paris and visiting her and Emma would be a good thing, you know?" Joey nodded. "But Monica's made me think about all the shitty things that Rachel has done over the past ten years. Regardless, I still do love her, but I need another person to talk to – to 'weigh all my options'" he informed, using the air quotes. "Monica's also saying that she doesn't think I should go for it, but she would also love it if we did get back together."

"Wow," Joey mumbled. "I think you should go for it, man. You love her and you always have. You freaked out pretty bad when you found out about us," causing Ross to wince. "Rachel and I probably wouldn't have worked out," Joey said, somewhere between a lie and truth, "especially after she hit me in _that_ area," which drew a subdued chuckled from Ross. "And I can guarantee you that my feelings for her are completely gone. Besides, there are going to be so many hot girls out there in California. Or at least, on that O.C. show."

"What? You're moving to California?" Ross questioned.

"Yeah, man. I need to further my whole acting career. There's nothing left here for me to do in New York," Joey noticed the change in his friend's demeanor and changed topics. "I mean, you were incredibly supportive when I told you I had feelings for Rachel – both times, you know after the initial shock, and this is my way of repaying you. You've been a great friend even after the mess that I created, including the whole proposal. Plus, it'd be pretty cool to be a minister for all my friend's weddings, right?"

"Yeah," Ross agreed and quipped, "I've done something even the great Joseph Tribbiani couldn't do. And _I_ thought it was pretty bad when she laughed after our first date." Yet, something had bothered him about Joey mentioning his move to California, which occurred in his dream. He felt it was a kind of premonition, if you will, but ignored it.

Joey added, "Geller, you're lucky you bruise like a peach… and have incredibly slow reflexes. So, you were planning on going to Paris to surprise her?"

"Moving actually," Ross corrected. "That's why I'm confused. I don't want to leave you guys, but I also don't want to leave the things the way they were with Rachel."

"What about Ben? Or about you're whole 'ten-year' thing?" Joey reminded, attempting the air quotes.

"Well, he's in pretty good hands with Carol and Susan. Plus, Rachel had said that they were going to make any accommodations for us which I'm assuming includes Ben," Ross planned. Resisting the urge to fix Joey's "ten-year" mistake, he suggested not necessarily thinking things through, "As for tenure, I could always find a job in Paris, right? Besides, it's almost summer vacation anyways."

"Yeah," Joey chimed excitedly, "Go after her – and Emma, too. You deserve this after the hot lesbian – I mean, Carol, that evil Emily and the drunken wedding that you hid from Rachel."

Ross felt slightly more confident after his chat with Monica, but slightly confused. He had been given conflicting advice. The fact that Joey hadn't been able to have sex with Rachel didn't hurt things either. He still felt like he _should_ go, but something was holding him back. Maybe she didn't feel the same way anymore, which could've been the reason she left.

**XXX**

Ross finally got home to his apartment. He had a pretty long day ahead of him tomorrow, helping Monica and Chandler move, but also make up the finals for his classes. He was pretty resolute on quitting his job for Emma and Rachel. After all, it was _just_ a job like he had told Rachel in the fight during their anniversary. Now, it was time for him to follow through on what he had said several years ago.

Entering his apartment, he saw the blinking red light on his answering machine, checked his message. It was _her_. "Ross. Hi, it's me. I'm sorry about the way I ended things. It's just when you and Phoebe came, it was just too much to handle at that moment, but I…" Mysteriously, the message had cut off, which left Ross wondering as to what else could have been on the rest of the message.


	5. Five

**Author's Note:** Well, another chapter up before the New Year. I'd hate to leave you on yet another cliffhanger, but what the hell? Ah, the song used in this chapter is Taking Back Sunday's "Ghost Man on Third," so I don't own it… just like the characters. You know, I don't know how it fits the story (it kind of does, then again, it kind of doesn't), but I've been listening to it and it's stuck in my head. Anyways, on with the next chapter…

**Five**

_Jinx me something crazy  
__Thinking if it's three  
__then I'm as smooth as the skin  
__rolls across the small of your back  
__It's too bad it's not my style.  
__If you need me,  
__I'm out and on the parkway,  
__patient and waiting for headlights,  
__Dressed in a fashion that's fitting to the  
__inconsistencies of my moods_

The message had cut off, which caused Ross to freak out. "What the hell was on the rest of the message?" Ross screamed at the top of his lungs. After she didn't call back, he naturally assumed the worst, thinking that it was that Rachel was telling him that she didn't love him anymore. "That's why she left for Paris, right?"

He tried calling her back, but her cell was shut off and he really didn't want to leave a message. He didn't have her number in Paris either, not that she'd have a phone line set up that quickly. Eventually, he'd given up all hope. "She's over me" was all he could say.

**XXX**

A couple weeks had passed, but Rachel hadn't received a call from Ross yet. She had been so sure that this message would've worked. "Maybe he's still helping Monica and Chandler move," she assumed. "They did have a lot of stuff to move into their new home, but two weeks?" She went over to check her cell phone and saw that her battery had died. "Shit," Rachel exclaimed, then covered her mouth hoping Emma hadn't heard. Luckily, Emma had been distracted by the blaring noise of cartoons on the television.

The past couple of weeks had been even more stressful and chaotic for Rachel. Even though she liked her job, work was a pain in the ass. There was so much of it and so little time or so it seemed. She barely had a social life in Paris. All of her energy went into her Louis Vuitton job and raising Emma. Emma had been talking a lot more lately although some of the words weren't necessarily coherent or intelligible. She had also been moving around a lot, which now Rachel knew what Sandra had been talking about. While her daughter was adorable, it was hard for Rachel to stare at Emma too long; after all, she had inherited Ross's brown eyes. Everything about Emma had been the exact replica of Rachel, except for the eyes – only Monica and Rachel would ever really notice the resemblance.

Rachel ran to the phone, "Huh, how could I have been that dumb not to notice that?" She dialed Ross' apartment. No answer. She would've tried calling Monica and Chandler's but she didn't have the number to their home in Westchester. She tried calling Joey's apartment, but she got a recorded response that said the number was no longer in service. So, she called the only person left: Phoebe.

"Hey," Rachel started awkwardly, not quite sure of how she'd react.

"Hey Rachel," Mike responded, "How's Paris?"

"It's great," Rachel lied. "I don't mean to sound rude, but is Phoebe there?"

"No, it's totally cool," Mike assured as she heard him calling Phoebe's name and him telling her that Rachel was on the phone.

"Oh, Rachel," Phoebe responded, coldly.

"Well, hello to you too, Pheebs. Anyways, I was wondering if you know what Monica and Chandler's number at Westchester or where Ross is," she grilled. "I tried calling him, but there was no answer."

"Why? So, you can break Ross's heart again," Phoebe spoke snidely, obviously referring to the incident, "because if it is, I'm not going to let you."

"What?" Rachel asked defensively, "No. God, no, it's just I can't reach get through to his number and I don't know the number for Monica and Chandler's new home."

_It's times like these, where silence means everything  
__And no one is to know about this_

Phoebe added sternly, "Look, you don't love him anymore. Since when do you give a shit about where Ross is? You've played nothing but mind games with him. Let's be honest, Rachel Karen Green, most of the time you've only cared about Ross when he wasn't available – when he's not able to be at your constant 'beck and call,' then you dispose of him when you're done using him. Ross is one of my good friends, and I'm not going to let you fuck with him… at least, not anymore. It probably would've been better off if I hadn't busted _my_ ass to get him to the right airport if you were only going to reject him. You don't know what it was like having to console him during the ride home or…"

_It's times like these, where silence means everything  
__And no one is to know about this_

Rachel had had enough, cutting her off, "So, that's what _this_ was all about. You honestly think that I don't love Ross anymore? It's everything but that. Phoebe, you're not the fucking puppet master of the group. You don't know shit about my aura. You want to know why I got on that damn plane: I didn't know what to say or how to react. It's not a one of those awfully clichéd romantic comedy where the girl simply bursts into his arms, saying that she does love him too. You think I was expecting him to tell me any or all of that? Getting over Ross was the hardest thing I've never done. You don't know what it's like to have your daughter there, look into her eyes – and see the same fucking set of eyes of your ex. The fact that he _is_ her father doesn't make it any easier."

_It's a campaign of distraction  
__and revisionist history, oh _

Emma popped out from her room to see what the yelling and commotion was about. Rachel noticed, left the room, went into her master bedroom and on the balcony. "Let me know when you show up at the airport, waiting for the man who loves you a lot after being revealed the obvious, but only to find his arms wrapped around another woman. Or the fact that your ex-boyfriend proposes to some English bitch after six weeks of dating when you dated him for a year, and not the slightest mention of even a proposal. Tell me when you idiotically accept a proposal from one of his best friends that you didn't want in the first place because of hormones and that you've been convinced – by quite possibly the most annoying person known to mankind – that the father of your child would eventually leave you. Let me know when the one person you think you can trust the most starts hiding messages from you because he's jealous of some asshole from the bar that I could care less about and realizing the God-damned reason why he hid it, but were both too much of spineless cowards to admit that we both loved each other."

Rachel continued, "Let me know when you are at a job and pretty much half-ass it because you're torn and haunted by the constant image of the heartbroken look on that face, knowing damn well you're the cause and cure for it. Let me know when you leave a message, the rest of it doesn't get heard because my piece of shit cell phone 'conveniently' dies on me at the most inconvenient time. Most of all, you don't know what it's like to have been cheated on by the one guy you love more than anything else in this world… with some random fucking copy place whore and find it out from someone else all because of one meaningless word. So, please, save me from that bullshit rhetoric about fucking mind games, Phoebe. All I asked was for a simple favor, that's it," Rachel finished, tears running down her face. All the pent-up frustration of over-working herself and stress was vented towards one of her closest friends.

_It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice  
__(It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice)  
__It's a shame I doubt they even care  
__(It's a shame I doubt they even care)  
__No one is to know about this_

There was a long silence at both ends of the phone, noticing that Phoebe had the tears going too, remorseful for jumping to such conclusions about one of her closest friends. Rachel resumed, gaining some composure, "So, are you going to tell me either?"

_It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice  
__(It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice)  
__It's a shame I doubt they even care  
__(It's a shame I doubt they even care)  
__Don't let me down _

**XXX**

"Eh, a C-," Ross scolded, grading one of the final exams that he'd given a week ago. Something inside him had become bitter. Most of his life he'd been somewhat of a hopeless romantic, but he had become a broken shell of a man in that department. He'd dropped all those optimistic ideals, thinking that only the naïve and weak bought that crap. He'd wondered what he'd done to deserve such a twisted and complicated love life, all of the baggage that had accompanied him in every single relationship. Was it punishment for being the much-preferred child? Was it cheating on Rachel and lying about it? Was it because he lied about getting the annulment in his drunken marriage to Rachel? Was it because he hadn't seized the day enough? Yet, when he tried that, it backfired and ended up with his second divorce…

_But whatever I have getting' myself into  
__maybe has been slicing inches from my waist  
__It's my fist vs. the bottle  
__(And thank god you weren't there...)  
__And that's how bad could this hurt  
__or against I won't feel a thing  
__(And thank god you weren't there...)  
__I tell you all about it  
__It's just not working out  
__(...to watch me hit bottom)  
__not working out _

_It's a campaign of distraction  
__and revisionist history, oh_

Against his will, he had grown to resent and detach himself from Monica and Chandler. Well, not his sister and brother-in-law, just the fact he was jealous that he didn't have what they had. It seemed ironic that all the dreams and aspirations that he had and hoped for Rachel were what actually happened for them – the suburban home, the two children, the wedding, the proposal, and everything else. Yet, here _he_ was grading papers for a final he couldn't care less about and for a job that had grown hollow, his children whom he loved so much yet both of them were barely around him, the only woman whom he loved more than anything – if not for Carol – was on "on the other side of the globe" as only Joey could put it, etc.

_It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice  
__(It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice)  
__It's a shame I doubt they even care  
__(It's a shame I doubt they even care)  
__No one is to know about this _

Ross tossed another beer bottle at the wall, shattering the glass, not caring about the mess that he had made. He hadn't spoken to Monica and Chandler since helping them move a few days after _the_ incident. He was no longer in the mood for Chandler's sarcastic remarks. And when he did hang out at the coffee house with Joey before he moved, he seemed distant. He hardly spoke to Phoebe when she was at Central Perk but she assumed that he was still coping over losing Rachel. His stubbornness and pride got the better of him. He had given up on going to Paris when he heard her message, still presuming the worst, and the fact she didn't call back sealed his assumption and fear that she wasn't in love with him anymore.

_It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice  
__(It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice)  
__It's a shame I doubt they even care  
__(It's a shame I doubt they even care)  
__No one has to know about this  
__Don't let me down_

**XXX**

"Are you serious, Phoebe?" Rachel asked. "He was going to quit his job for me, but held back because he thought I didn't love him anymore. Well, there's one thing I've got to do, but don't tell Ross about this. Thanks, Phoebe. And again, I'm _so_ sorry about yelling at you." With that, she hung up and dropped Emma off with her sitter.

_This is why we were taught so much better than this  
__This is why we were taught so much better than this _

She drove her car to Louis Vuitton with resignation papers in hand. Sure, she was going to quit her job, but it wasn't even a job that she had earned necessarily on her own merits. Like almost everything else in life, it had been handed to her. Central Perk was given to her because Gunther had a huge crush. Mark had some feelings for her – which resulted in Rachel getting the Bloomingdale job – and that he had patiently waited and picked his spot to make his move. She distinguished the only job she had earned on her own was Ralph Lauren. Ross was sort of right, it was in fact _just_ a job, wasn't it? It's not like there weren't plenty of other jobs in New York, right?

_This is what living like this does  
__This is what living like this does  
__This is what living like this does_

Just then, she'd spotted a familiar face, walking into the same building… and that person had a child with them, about five or six years old. _It couldn't be, could it?_ _No, it has to be a look-alike_, Rachel confided to herself. She walked up closer to the person, shocked and aghast. It was like some kind of sick joke that she would be standing to this person.

_This is what living like this does  
__This is what living like this does  
__This is what living like this does_

"Just what the fuck are you doing here?" Rachel demanded, scaring the child.

"You know, I _should_ be asking you the same question, but to answer your question, _I_ work here… or have been working here for six years," the voice replied. "Now, what are _you_ doing here, Rachel? And I don't appreciate you yelling and cursing in front of my son."

Looking into the eyes of the child, Rachel gasped. If it weren't for the child, who knows what Rachel _might_ have done to this person…

_This is what living like this does  
__This is what living like this does  
__This is what living like this does_


	6. Six

**Disclaimer:** Oh yeah, I don't own most of the characters or the songs…

**A/N:** I had a different version of this chapter done back in February, but my hard drive crashed. Recently, I went through a lack of interest in _Friends_ and combining that with a writer's block plus the aforementioned computer problem, you get the long delay for this chapter. I'd planned this as a different and separate one-shot, but I liked it so I merged the two stories. I know, it _is_ Ross and Rachel-heavy, but again they are the heart of this story. Anyways, on with the penultimate chapter…

**Six**

_Two days and I've not slept a wink  
with these thoughts that I've been thinking.  
This is the mark I aim to miss (again)._

There used to be a time when Rachel could vividly picture every detail of her extravagant wedding (after all, she was, at heart, a Green) and wonderful marriage – from the color and cut of her wedding and bridesmaids' dresses to the arrangement of the table décor at the reception to, of course, the groom. His chocolate brown eyes that made her melt and her stomach churn with butterflies of anxiety, yet also filled her with a rich sense of security and serenity as he recited his compelling vows.

Rachel, naturally, would have chosen Monica as her maid of honor – and she assumed Ross would have selected Chandler as his best man. It just made sense, seeing as how they were the "core" of the group that went as far back as Thanksgivings at Jack and Judy's. A few years later, she added a few twists to those images, such as Joey officiating at the wedding after having done Chandler and Monica's. She also imagined all the possibilities: if she had not mentioned the break, if she had been less ambiguous about it, if she had the strength to tell Mark not to come over, if she hadn't written that eighteen page letter – and the list went on.

That was about nine years ago. And every now and then, those images would come back to "haunt" her like when she and Ross were "actors" for the night in Massapequa as they played the role of newlyweds and hearing his ideal proposal or when Joey had mistakenly thought Ross was going to propose after Emma's birth or when she quit Louis Vuitton to start things up again a few months after Newark or every single time she would gaze into her daughter's eyes for too long. However, all those had one similar ending, it was all for naught.

"Hey Rach," her fiancée called out to her, entering their bedroom after a long day at the hospital. A doctor: it was what she had always wanted, yet it wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Noticing she had been lost in thought, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek, which momentarily snapped her from the daze. She thought she would've learned her lesson after Barry.

_You toss and turn, I lie awake,  
who knows what I've been drinking.  
Another cheap, meaningless kiss (to give)._

"Oh hey," Rachel mumbled, finally acknowledging his company before drifting back into her reverie.

Oblivious to him being in the same bed, Rachel took a seat, staring intently at the expensive and lavish wedding dress that hung on the back of the door. Apparently, she had forgotten the groom wasn't supposed to see the dress. In a few months, she would be getting married, but counting down the days felt like those days when she was engaged to Barry. It was that feeling of an impending doom, walking towards an execution waiting to be carried out rather than what should've been one of the best days of her life. She wanted to be married, just not to this doctor. And she couldn't run out on a second wedding, the reputation of being a "runaway bride" was just about as bad as, say, three divorces.

And the time she and Ross had actually been married, she considered it to be the world's worst hangover. She had always imagined that she and Ross would be the first of their group to be married, just not in that manner. Call it selfish, but her and Ross being married just seemed and felt right, which was why it stung when Monica rambled on about the "formerly fat friend being married" before her. People often didn't think her and Ross seem to make sense. She felt Chandler and Monica didn't make much sense either (not that there was anything "wrong" with Chandler, but thought Monica deserved better), yet they somehow managed to make a marriage last five years and counting.

"Well, yeah, you know how Ross and I were on again, off again, on again, off again? I guess I just figured that somewhere down the road, we would be on again," those words flooded Rachel's cerebrum, but that road had long become deserted. The "on again, off again" door had been slammed shut and locked almost eighteen months ago. And as she wrapped herself in the comforter, she still wondered what he could be thinking right now before finally succumbing to a deep slumber.

_From the beginning,  
dulled down and lost with all its charm.  
I just wanna wake up, wake up in someone's…_

---

_I've heard stories through silence and we laugh at the end  
and declare that today was the best day we lived  
but the end of the night draws a calm to the dark  
where I dream you exist in the places you aren't._

Sitting on his couch, Ross's eyes were fixated blankly at the enveloped addressed to him, downing his fifth (or sixth?) shot of vodka, margarita or basically whatever alcohol was readily available in a three-foot radius. By coincidence, something about Rachel and alcohol went hand-in-hand like peanut butter and jelly or the World Series in the fall. He didn't even have to open the envelope to know who it was from or what were its contents. And considering the situation Rachel was in when he was set to marry Emily, Ross could say he wasn't a huge fan of irony. Like Rachel, he had debated whether he should go or not.

Just when he had convinced himself he was "over" her, she did something that would make him regress back to that lovesick fifteen year old that pined for her from across the room. After over twenty years, she still had that affect on him, which after telling her that he was done thinking about going down that road. Then again, he was actually surprised he had gotten an invitation in the first place, even after all the things he had said. It just confused him all the more.

_I'm cold inside  
and these pictures can't even explain what's missing in my life.  
The coldest of calendars I couldn't have it any better.  
Half the time I am alive just to see your smile._

Walking over to his bedroom, he grabbed a huge album, thumbing through photos of him and Rachel in that wonderful year they dated – as well as pictures of three of his best friends and his sister. It reminded him of a time before things became incredibly complicated and how young and naïve they appeared. Now, Phoebe and Mike were happily married with a fourteen month old son, Michael Joseph Hanigan, Jr. Chandler and Monica also were usually happily married with their three year old children, Erica and Jack. Of course, Rachel was on the verge of a wedding – and knew their five year-old daughter would be the flower girl. Emma, mouth and eyes aside, was all Rachel. He loved spending time with the little girl, but couldn't even answer her questions about why her mother and father weren't able to be in the same room with her. Even Joey was engaged to his next door neighbor, which her name escaped Ross at the moment.

And yet, more irony: Twelve years ago, all of his friends were the single ones while he was the one in a marriage, but now he was on the outside, looking in. He dated several women in the eighteen month span, nothing lasting more than a couple months. Every woman had some characteristic that constantly reminded him of or tied back to Rachel, inadvertently or not. Sarah, his current girlfriend, had those same sparkling blue eyes that when the light reflected off of them in a particular angle, they beamed a light shade of green. All the women still couldn't fully fill the void left by her. But eventually, he had come to a decision…

_There's a letter here waiting to go in the mail.  
In my head it's all there but I'm not quite prepared to fade away.  
Don't fade away.  
Somehow I'll try to do this right_

---

Rachel's thoughts floated back to the day that she ran into Emily a couple years ago and how she thought – more like convinced – the child with her was Ross'. She was incredibly relieved, which was more than an underestimation, to find out it wasn't.

"You're pathetic," the British women spewed through her teeth, unwilling to say her brief ex-husband's name. "You actually think this is his, don't you? Well, he's not the only guy with brown eyes in this universe, Rachel. I doubt you'd care with you being self-absorbed, but it's Colin's. It still doesn't explain what you're doing here."

"Well, I work here, Emily," Rachel responded. Paris wasn't as glamorous as she thought it would've been or as described – a few months was enough for Rachel, "but knowing that you're here, it makes my decision to quit a hell of a lot easier."

"If you're quitting because of him, then you're still the same person that was crazy about him while _we_ were engaged," she remarked, seeing Rachel's eyes widen and dilating. "Please, you don't think I didn't see it in your eyes, how depressed you were when you heard about the engagement – and it was even more obvious after you and that Josh broke up while the three of us were at dinner. I saw it, but chose to ignore it. I never should've gone through with that awful wedding. Damn him for having a way with words…"

"You know what as much fun as hearing you ramble on is," she interrupted, knowing exactly what she meant by her last sentence. "However, I've got this resignation letter to turn in and a daughter to pick up." Before Emily could say another word, she walked inside the building. If only she had known that was going to backfire…

After she had told Monica about coming back to New York, she requested her not to tell anyone, but not before finding another job in New York. It also took her by surprise when Monica told her about Joey moving to California, which meant now she'd have to find an apartment as well. The flight back wasn't as bad; the optimist in her saw how she'd be able to see and fix things with Ross, that Emma would have her mommy and daddy living together again.

She would never forget the day that would turn out to be that she and Ross could stand being in the same room and in each other's presence.

---

_Six days and I can see the same  
brown eyes in this reflection.  
Is the man you say I'll be (become)?_

"Ross," she called out in his apartment. Fortunately, she still had the key from the time she was living at his place while they both took care of Emma. She shuffled through the cluttered mess that engulfed the place: shattered glass on the floor, papers scattered across the room, and a darkness that even the brightest light couldn't enter. It looked like a hurricane had ransacked his apartment, "You home?"

_You toss and turn, I lie awake,  
into the sand were sinking.  
Holding us back from breathing free (I'm done)_

Just as those words left her mouth, she saw him sitting on his couch, turning on one of the lights. Ross didn't even flinch or turn around when the lights came on. He had evidently been zoned out in wherever or whatever thoughts were running through his mind. She didn't have enough courage to disturb him from that trance. And when he finally noticed that she was in his apartment, she looked into those same eyes that used to make her melt, but they had lost that luster and shine that once oozed of a beautiful brown. Those eyes had been replaced with dark eyes, surrounded by a bloody red mostly from the consumed alcohol and tearsthat once flowed down his face.

_More than words you keep to yourself.  
Like a curse that fares thee well.  
One man came, one truth to tell.  
All this blame, hammers your way to hell._

---

_I'm cold inside  
and these pictures can't even explain what's missing in my life.  
The coldest of calendars I couldn't have it any better  
Half the time I am alive just to see your smile_

"Wh- wh- what are you doing here?" Ross stammered, getting up from his couch as if though he had just seen a ghost. "I, I thought you were in Louis Vuitton and Paris."

"Well, I was," Rachel replied, surprised by his seemingly indifferent behavior by her being there although she didn't blame him for being staggered by it, "but I decided that I was better off here, being home in New York."

"Because it's convenient… for you, right Rach?" he smugly and coldly replied. He scoffed, "At one point, I was partially right, except it's always been _about_ you, hasn't it?"

"What?" Rachel pondered the meaning by his nonchalant and detached behavior. "Wh- what are you talking about Ross?"

"Monica was right, too – although she never would say it to your face," Ross continued, "but you know, it's one of my 'rights' as the ex-boyfriend, I'll say what I want, when I want. You're still the same God-damned selfish individual you were ten years ago, Rachel. You know that, but I should've known better. The only difference between then and now is that you don't need your asshole of a father's money to be a bitch."

_Sometimes I feel cold inside.  
It feels like I am sleeping outside indoors.  
There's a light I can see in your eyes._

Astonished, Rachel started welling up as he continued to lash out at her, "God, Rachel. I've done everything possible to apologize for hurting you in the worst possible way when we broke up. And since then, I've wasted my time, trying to get you back when we both know it was most likely never possible. You fucking tell me to move on, but the millisecond I do, you – accidentally or not – meddle with things so that I end up getting the shaft."

"You convince Bonnie to shave her head then you write a damn letter, basically telling me to take all the blame for the break up. When I do, you rub it in my face like you've claimed victory. And you say _I_ can't let the little things go, Rach? I'm _not_ Chandler. There's no way I'm going to let you walk over me like Monica does. Hell, if I had known there were stipulations, I would've stuck it through with Bonnie until she grew her hair back. Or how about when you set me up with Emily? There's yet another brilliant idea. And then you happen to show up just so you could see me fuck up, again."

That was the one thing about Ross: he could say the right things to make Rachel ecstatic, but he also knew the right buttons to push that would hurt her more than anything anyone else could say in their group – and vice versa.

---

_I've got a feeling it's not the safest place to start.  
This heavy breathing, it seems, we're better off breaking hearts._

With tears rolling down her face and both of them breathing haggardly, Rachel replied, "You've done some pretty shitty things too, Ross. Don't act like you're the damn victim in all of this. Like when you didn't tell me about not getting the annulment or when you hide some guy's message that I wasn't planning on calling back anyways."

"That's the difference between you and me, Rach. I've claimed and taken my share of the blame, most of the time, anyways. Like I've said, you do the same – when it's convenient for _you_. Hell, the only damn reason you told me the Vegas wedding was your idea was because you saw that I was getting the brunt of the blame. If I hadn't let it slip about why I didn't get the annulment, you felt guilty about it. Hell, I was the last person to know about you being pregnant with our daughter, the last to know about your 'engagement' to Joey and eventual 'relationship' with Joey. If I truly meant more to you, you never would've left."

Rachel cut him off, shouting, "You think _I_ planned it that way. It's not my fault you fucking forgot your damn sweater at Joey and my apartment. And it's not my fault that Joey had the balls to do something you never could – you know, stepping up and being a man. Waiting until the last fucking minute to tell me you still love me? You're great at 'seizing the day,' Ross. How the hell do you think I was supposed to react with what you were telling me at Newark? I didn't know how to react…"

"And by the way, it's not my fault your verbal prowess said the wrong name at that wedding; I don't control your mouth and the shit you say, Ross. Speaking of control, that is the reason we broke up, isn't it, Ross? You wanted to control me, but I wanted the control to live my own life. You got scared that I was gaining too much independence – that I wouldn't need you anymore. But God, Ross – I loved you too much to leave you, yet you couldn't trust me when I told you nothing would ever happen between me and Mark. And you know what,we're _not_ Monica and Chandler because it's obvious who has the balls in that relationship and who doesn't."

Several hours and more words shouted later, they eventually came to a stalemate just like most of the fights before. It was almost as if they had traveled back seven years in time and switched roles. Rachel mentioned in a tired and throaty voice, choking back tears, "You know this is not why I came here. This- this can't be it, Ross…"

"Then how come it is, Rach," Ross, also through tears, verbalized the words that had the same sense of finality contained in them that night, "I'm just tired of thinking and talking about the possibility of us when it's more likely it'll end in heartbreak and hurt you again."

Ironically, it was causing her hurt and pain either way as they stood for quite some time, letting the words and tone sink in before eventually grabbing her purse and leaving his apartment.

---

_From the beginning, dulled down and lost with all its charm.  
I just wanna wake up, wake up in someone's. _

I just wanna wake up (8x).

If it were humanely possible, Rachel, reminiscing of that last fight, had more tears flowing down her face than on that night, leaving the bed in an attempt to hide them from her fiancé. Trying to make herself happy, she went into Emma's bedroom, which was, to her, the best qualities of her and Ross. It brought back memories of the good times she and Ross had, but made her sad and depressed that none of that would ever be attainable again.

_I just wanna wake up in someone else's arms._

---

_I've seen nights without sleep  
Days without daylight  
These memories I keep won't keep me warm at night._

As Ross scanned through another photo album, he noticed how happy and delighted he and Rachel used to be. Surprisingly, he smiled at the photo and memory of when they had taken care of Ben when he had just said his first words. He wondered whether or not he would find that exact happiness again. It wasn't that he wasn't happy with Sarah because he was.

_The coldest part is the heart that we share  
is breaking apart and you're not even here  
to say things will get better  
So freezing out blanket my discontent 'til I sleep again. _

I'm saving a story that won't begin 'til you're there

---

**A/N II: **Most of the lyrics I've used for Rachel's POV are Mae's "Someone Else's Arms," which alternates with "Coldest of Calendars" by Punchline for Ross's POV. I'm a sucker for the acoustic in general, but the acoustic version of "Coldest" is awesome. I'm thinking of starting a new story after this gets done, a happier one. Anyways, you know what to do…


	7. Seven

**Disclaimer:** Is there a brand, spanking new way to do this? No. The characters, other than James and Sarah, don't belong to me.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews. They've actually motivated me to write this chapter sooner. As for one review, I don't **hate** Chandler or Monica – just what the writers did to both of their characters after they were married. Besides, Rachel and Phoebe weren't all that kind to Chandler in the last few of seasons and we've heard at least a couple times that they both thought Monica could do better. So, I don't think it's _completely_ out of character.

**Seven**

As Leonard escorted her down the aisle, her eyes quickly wandered across the room at the guests in attendance. And just as she had suspected and to her disappointment, Ross wasn't there. Even though Monica had told her that he wasn't showing up until the reception, a part of her still believed that his sister had only said that to minimize the awkwardness between them. Still, another part of her blood boiled, seeing as how he missed _their_ daughter as a flower girl – she figured he would've at least shown up for that.

She couldn't even feign happiness, not even on her big day – and she was supposed to be the emotional one. Anyone who truly knew Rachel Karen Green would have been able to see right through her. And as she approached the altar, she saw her future husband, James. _A doctor, it's what I'd always wanted_, she unconvincingly mumbled to herself.

In a world without Ross, James was a genuinely great and stand-up guy, the closest thing to "perfect" you could get. He was intelligent, had devastatingly good looks, a chiseled physique and, not that it mattered, a financial security and stability to boot. And to top it all off, he was wonderful with Emma – and she reciprocated. Although Rachel would never let her forget who her father was, she dreaded the day when Emma would ask her _those_ questions. Just a couple weeks ago, she and Ross seemed to reconcile things…

--

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Ross ran to open the door, confused. "Rachel, what are you doing here?"

"Is Sarah around?" she inquired.

Before he could even mouth "no," she found her lips pressed up against his, yet the surprising thing was that he didn't seem to be fighting it or pushing her off of him. Instead, he increased the vigor in the kiss, matching – if not, surpassing – her intensity. At this point, rationality was the last and furthest thing from their minds.

Ross broke the kiss, "Seriously, Rach, what are you doing here?"

She didn't know, but she had grown increasingly tired of them being childish and standoffish. "We need to fix this, for Emma's sake. And not necessarily get back together, but so we could at least be in the same room, Ross."

"Right because the two of us making out always fixes things," he retorted half-serious and half-jokingly, drawing a brief chuckle from her. "What about all the things we said that night, Rach…"

"Please, Ross – we've been through a lot worse than _that_," she confided. "Sure, it still hurts to hear those things from the one you care about most."

Ross cocked an eyebrow, partly because she had said cared not loved. In return, Rachel felt as though she had let a huge secret slip, but before he could mutter another word, their lips and tongues managed to peruse each other. Soon, clothing started to hit the floor – and Ross guided his ex-girlfriend into his bedroom.

His wet lips kissed every inch of her neck, just the way she liked it. Rachel elicited a soft moan, indicating her evident pleasure at the gesture. She loved that Ross would always remember all the little things, and maybe that's what made this time the hardest.

"Are you alright?" he wondered, seemingly hesitant. "And are you sure we should be doing this?"

She put a finger to his lips, telling him – without words – to just continue. As he laid her down on top of his bed while grabbing a condom, he joked, "You know, I've heard these things are only 97 effective."

She smiled, recollecting of how badly he freaked, "Yeah, that's why I've switched to the pill."

And not before long, he was thrusting in and out of her, gently at first and picking up the pace as she repeatedly moaned and whimpered his name into his ear.

It just felt… _right_.

--

Several months had passed since their blowout fight.

Rather than quitting, Rachel had eventually gotten a transfer to a Louis Vuitton in New York – and had also found an apartment on her own. And on her way to work, she had seen Ross casually chatting and laughing in the coffee house with another woman, Sarah. She had heard bits and pieces of information about her from Monica – and putting her tinge of jealousy aside, Rachel had to admit this girl was pretty.

However, the thing that tugged at Rachel's heart strings the most was that Ross seemed happy and content; that his eyes were no longer a drab color, but in his eyes glistened, shimmering that shade of brown, which used to exclusively be for her. It hurt to see and know Ross _finally_ moving on – feeling faint, she had to get out of there.

And then she crashed into him.

James.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologized.

"No, it's okay," he stated, extending his hand, "I'm James."

"Rachel," she informed, returning his friendly gesture.

"So, what's a beautiful girl like you in a rush for," he teased.

"Well, I was going to get a cup of coffee, but look at the time. I've gotta get to work."

"You know, I don't know you all that well, but I'm not on-call for another hour or so, you don't mind if I walk you to work – or you know whatever, if that's cool with you," the man suggested.

As she was about to reject him, she thought better of that, seeing Ross moving on that she should do the same, too. It was finally time to do the same. "I'd like that, James."

As they walked together, they discussed anything and almost everything, ranging from family to jobs to all of the other introductory stuff at the beginning of every relationship. Rachel felt something in the pit of her stomach that she hadn't felt in some time. Everything about the two seemed to just click.

"So, here we are," Rachel declared as they reached the Louis Vuitton building.

"Ah," he uttered, slightly disappointed that his time with this incredible woman was coming to end, but didn't want that just yet. "Rachel, listen, you're definitely this awesome person – and I'd like to get to know you better and I was wondering if it would be alright if, say, I bought you dinner for Friday night?"

"Yeah," she agreed, handing him a piece of paper with her number on it.

James articulated, beaming a great smile, "Great, I'll call you."

--

Knowing she should've been more prepared and ready, Rachel tried on several outfits – being and working in fashion definitely had its advantages. She modeled dresses and skirts in front of Emma, who turned out to be her toughest critic. Finally, Rachel settled on a white puffy, vintage skirt and a black top with a single strap that slung over a shoulder. Simple, yet left a lot to the imagination. The little girl gave her a thumb up and a "Mommy's pretty."

Rachel waited for the sitter to take care of Emma as she also waited for James to pick her up for the date. Looking at the mirror in the bathroom, Rachel applied the final touches of makeup.

James arrived, wearing a white, button-down shirt – all of the buttons, except for the top, sleeves rolled up half-way, and a pair of black khaki pants: casual, but not boring. He noticed the little girl, sitting a few feet from the television. "What are you watching?"

"Fairly Oddparents," she did her best to enunciate the words.

Rachel, watching from afar, thought it was adorable he at least attempted to connect to the little girl. She assumed other guys would've been scared off the moment she mentioned she had a daughter – of course, she still had to tell James that Emma was in fact her daughter.

"So, is this is your niece?" he pondered as if the timing couldn't have been any more perfect.

"No," she answered earnestly, yet feared the absolute worst with the following sentence, "Emma's my daughter."

"Oh," he reacted and as he observed her face, changed his tone, "No, there's nothing wrong with it, Rachel. I just didn't think you – it's just that you don't show any signs of, you know – man, I'm an idiot…"

She couldn't help, but suppress a giggle as he continued to apologize, "It's alright. Don't worry about it. There isn't a day that goes by where I regret having my little girl – if anything: Emma manages to brighten up my day when I'm having the worst possible day"

"That's amazing," he digressed from his incoherent rambling, "I don't mean to get too personal, but is the father involved much?"

"Oh, yeah – he's definitely as much as he possibly could, more than any other guy probably would've considering the situation…" Rachel stopped in her tracks, hoping she hadn't disclosed too much information. Oops.

"Ah, what is the situation?"

"Well, it's complicated…"

"Then again, what relationship isn't the slightest bit complicated?"

"Yeah, but you don't know our situation," she paused. "I'll let you know when I'm ready, but for now, trust me when I say it's complicated."

"Alright," he casually noted, satisfied with her explanation.

Just as things started to get awkward, the babysitter arrived to break the building tension between the two adults. "We'll be back before midnight," Rachel enlightened the teenager.

--

As the days had passed, Rachel had divulged her new beau to the gang to mostly mixed reaction, but the three remaining members were happy that if Ross and Rachel couldn't get it right with each other that they were at least able to be happy with other people. She would've been lying if she said she wasn't surprised when Monica had told her Ross took with the "James news" with indifference. She was expecting to him to show some sort of jealousy, but nothing.

Weeks had passed. Rachel had filled James in on the tangled web that once was "Ross and Rachel," and surprisingly, he was pretty accepting of their situation, saying that all of it was in the past. However, James and Ross never actually met in person, but she was happy. And maybe they _had_ reached that place where she could be happy for him and vice versa like she had convinced herself several years ago while with Joshua.

Things began snowballing as several months had passed – and after nine months, James had proposed to her. It caught her off-guard, but she accepted. At 36, she wasn't getting any younger, yet as the big day got closer and close, the more her case of cold feet grew. Ironically, the person she thought she trusted most for advice was the same person she wasn't on speaking terms with – and that was "putting it lightly."

--

They lay in bed together. His arms subconsciously – if not, by instinct – were wrapped protectively around her.

What had she just done? No, she knew exactly what she did, but that wasn't how things were supposed to go. Seeing Ross in person again shot her plans straight to hell – it was almost as though she had "forgotten" all about his smoldering looks. Not to mention, how amazing his kissing and other skills were.

She watched as his chest moved up and down, taking in and out each breath. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated between her and Ross?

"Hey you," he softly chimed, running his up and down her back. Damn him for using that phrase they used frequently when they were dating – and for making her body tremble, feeling each gentle stroke brush her back. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Hey," Rachel acknowledged, "eh, a couple minutes."

Realizing the full impact of the situation, both of them shot out of bed. She wrapped a couple of covers around her, grabbing the clothes resting still on the ground.

Rachel confessed, "That. That wasn't supposed to happen."

"Right – right," Ross let those words sink in, slightly disappointed. "You're engaged. Hell, you're getting married in a couple weeks. What were we thinking?"

"I know. Look, Ross – it's my fault," she assertively took responsibility. "So, I've gotta get going…"

As Rachel headed out his apartment door, he slowly watched her walk away – that was all he _could_ do.

Once she was finally out the door, she checked her phone. 4 missed calls, she silently read the phone. _Damn_, she thought dialing their apartment, but no answer. She left a message, explaining how she had a work problem that required her to stay all night at the office. And despite all that the only thought running through her mind:

As if this wasn't going to muddle things between her and Ross…

--

Finally, reaching the altar, tears finally brimmed down her delicate cheeks, but for an obviously different reason. Despite his insistence, Rachel thought it was best not to write her own vows. She simply couldn't – obviously, as there would only be one person those vows would've been reserved for.

"Friends and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of James and Rachel," Joey proclaimed. "Rachel's been a great friend for several years – and James, he's a great guy and no one could have been a better match for her than him. Now, James, repeat after me."

"I, James," Joey paused, allowing James to respond.

"I, James," he replied.

"Take thee Rachel…"

"Take thee Rachel"

"…as my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and health until death parts us."

"…as my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and health until death parts us."

"And now, Rachel, repeat after me," Joey continued, echoing the same phrases with James a few minutes ago. "I, Rachel…"

"I, Rachel,"

"Take thee, James…"

"Take thee, James…"

"…as my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and health until death parts us."

"…as my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and health until death parts us."

After they placed the rings on each other's fingers, "I now pronounce you husband and wife," Joey decreed, "You may kiss the bride."

And just as Joey finished his sentence, James did as was told, both Rachel and James walked down the aisle in the opposite direction, beginning their lives, together.

--

As the emcee introduced the newlyweds at the reception, she plastered the fake smile that she had grown accustomed to giving. Suddenly, her smile brightened a bit, seeing Ross sitting at his table. Of course, the smile faded slightly as Sarah took her seat beside him.

Several hours later, the party started to wind down – with the party guests leaving. Chandler and Monica decided to head off, back to Westchester as the twins had fallen asleep. Phoebe and Mike had done the same – so did Joey and Alex.

Guiding her husband in Ross's direction not thinking about the possible uncomfortable moment between the two, Rachel introduced him to her ex, "James, this is Ross – Emma's father."

"Hey," Ross greeted, shaking his hand. "Congratulations, man. You're a very lucky guy."

"Honey, I'll catch up with you later," Rachel revealed.

"Hey Ross," she flashed a genuine smile, the second in the last five minutes. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Are you sure? You're not mad about me missing the actual ceremony," he brought up. "I mean, you had to sit through one of my disastrous weddings."

Rachel joked, "Well, we wouldn't have wanted to take the chance of _me_ saying the wrong name, do we?"

"That is a good point," Ross concurred. "So, I take it…"

She affirmed, knowing what he was going to say, "Yeah…"

"You know if you ever need me around to help you with Emma…"

"I know. I'd be a horrible person if I didn't let you."

"Well," he said, giving her a hug as their tears both began rolling down, knowing full well this would be the final intimate hug shared between them and gently kissing her on the cheek. "Bye, Rach."

"Ross," she interrupted him, stifling back whatever tears hadn't streamed down her face yet. She whispered softly into his ear, "Don't make this more difficult than it already is…"

"Besides, it's not like you're moving away to England – and I'm forbidden from seeing you again."

He chuckled as they broke off the hug while it seemed obvious he didn't want to just yet – but any longer might have made them slightly noticeable. She watched him walk away, presumably to look for Sarah.

--

Eventually, Joey was also presided for Ross and Sarah's wedding about a year and some months after Rachel's wedding. Rachel had another daughter while Sarah added a son into the fold while Ross and Rachel did as much as they could with Emma.

And yet as cruel as fate had been to Ross and Rachel over the years, they could've easily had a "happily ever after" _together_ – if either of them had capitalized on one of the several missed and squandered opportunities…

--

**A/N II:** I would add a epilogue, but there'd really be nothing new, so it's _done_. Slightly revised because of a mix-up, thanks tini, I _really_ should have double checked that. Anyways, reviews are good, leaving one is better…


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